"Violet seems to like you a great deal."
"She's a good kid. Her sisters are, too. But while we may share a bloodline, we're not family. I left the house when Violet was three years old. And my youngest sister wasn't even born yet. They don't remember me being around."
"They might remember more than you think. Why not get to know them? They didn't treat you badly. They're not responsible for their parents' actions."
"I don't hold them responsible." He gave her a hard look. "Don’t try to fix me and my family. We have a history together that you can't begin to understand."
She thought she understood more than he knew, but she decided not to argue. It was his family, his business, and she should stay out of it.
They crossed the street and walked down the next block in silence. When they reached her building, her landlord Eileen Peterman was just coming out of the gallery.
At fifty-nine, Eileen was a beautiful platinum blonde with a bohemian style of dress, who had never married and loved to travel.
Eileen liked having Alicia upstairs so she could keep an eye on the building while Eileen was off on her many adventures, an arrangement that suited them both well. In fact, in Eileen Peterman, Alicia had not only found an enthusiastic buyer for her photographs, she'd found a mother figure and a kindred spirit, someone who understood her far better than her own mother ever had.
"Alicia," Eileen said with a smile. "I can't wait to see what photographs you took last night. Tell me you did not miss that amazing storm. I just got back from visiting my sister in Charleston, but we saw the news reports. The lightning looked amazing."
"I got some good shots. I'll bring them down tomorrow or Monday."
"I can't wait." Eileen gave Michael a curious smile. "And who's your friend?"
"This is Michael Cordero—my landlord Eileen Peterman. She owns the building and the gallery and is kind enough to sell my photographs."
"They fly off the walls." Eileen's speculative gaze took in every inch of Michael. "It's so nice to meet you, Michael. Are you also a photographer?"
"No, I'm a builder."
"His company is putting up the new city center," Alicia interjected.
"I saw the plans for that. I like the style of the development, the integration of local culture and artists," Eileen said approvingly.
"We try to build in a way that works with the existing landscape but also improves upon it," Michael replied.
"Well, if your designers need any art, I have some wonderful pieces."
Alicia inwardly groaned at Eileen's blatant sales plea but she could hardly complain. If Eileen weren't so good at taking every opportunity she could, Alicia's photographs would not have made her nearly as much money as they had.
"I'll definitely pass on your name," Michael said. "It's not my area, but I'll make sure the designers take a look at what you have to offer."
"Excellent." She looked back at Alicia. "By the way, a reporter stopped by a half hour ago, looking for you. She said you were involved in some missing person case and she would like to speak to you. I have her card inside. Shall I get it for you?"
"No. I don't need to talk to any reporters. Where was she from?"
"ABC News."
"I wonder how she got my address." She was a little dismayed by her lack of privacy, not that she'd ever worried that much about protecting her address. It wasn't as if she had a lot to steal. But now that she might have witnessed something dangerous, she was more concerned.
"She didn't say." A frown moved through Eileen's eyes. "Do I need to be worried about you?"
"I'm fine. I found a military ID tag at the park when I went to shoot the photographs yesterday. It belonged to a missing person. That's all. Hopefully, it will help find her."
"You always have had a sharp eye, Alicia. Probably not many people would have noticed an ID tag lying about or thought it was important."
She shrugged, not wanting to get into the fight she'd witnessed. "We'll see if it helps bring the woman home. Were you just leaving?"
"Yes, I have a date tonight with a very distinguished gentleman," Eileen said. "Handsome and rich, my favorite combination."
She laughed. "Good for you. I want to hear all about it. I have to live vicariously through you."
Eileen's wicked smile turned to Michael. "I don't know that I believe that anymore. You have such an attractive companion. You two have fun."
As Eileen walked away, Alicia gave Michael an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that. She loves to try to find me dates. I'm the single daughter she never had."
"I know what that's like. My assistant is a fifty-six-year-old woman who feels compelled to try to match me up with someone whenever she can, usually the daughter of one of her friends."
She smiled, doubting that Michael had trouble finding dates on his own. "Have you ever let her set you up?"
"Twice, under duress. She wouldn't let up on me, and I knew she was trying to be nice, so I went. One woman wasn't bad, but she was really hung up on her ex-boyfriend. The other was a fanatical conservationist who basically told me building projects were destroying the planet. Needless to say, we didn't have much to talk about."
She laughed as they walked up the stairs to her apartment. "I've had worse dates than that."
"Oh, yeah? Like what?"
"Like the guy who wouldn't stop crying."
Michael gave her a skeptical look. "You're making that up."
"I'm not. He'd just sold his '76 Mustang that he'd apparently inherited from his grandfather, and he was mourning its loss. Everything I said and did reminded him of that car. I mentioned I liked the beach and he broke down in sobs, saying the first time he ever drove that car, he took it to the beach. The smell of salty sea air would stay with him forever."
"Hey, women always want us to show emotion and when we do, you don't like it," he said with a grin.
"Not when you're crying about your car," she said, letting him into her apartment.
"A '76 Mustang is a sweet ride."
"It's just a vehicle, something that gets you from point A to point B."
"No, a car is always more than a car to a guy. It's like a purse to a woman. It's a sign of status. It represents your personality. And it shows off your flash."
She raised an eyebrow. "Okay, but you're driving a leased convertible that you didn't even pick out for yourself, so if a car is so important to you, then what's the deal?" She tossed her keys down on the side table and took off her jacket.
"That car is just part of the job. It's not me."
"So what do you drive in New York?"
"I don't drive in the city."
"Then you don't own a car?"
"I do," he said, a sheepish smile on his face.
"What is it—a Porsche? A BMW. Wait, it isn't a Mustang, is it?"
"No, it's an Infiniti sports car. Nice speed, great handling, and all-wheel drive takes me wherever I want to go."
"And where does it take you?"
"Upstate New York sometimes. My grandfather has a place in the Adirondacks, sometimes down to Cape Cod or farther south to Martha's Vineyard."
"Where I assume your grandfather also has houses?"
"He does own a lot of real estate," Michael admitted. "It's his business, and he's been buying and selling for half a century."
"Sounds like you have a nice inheritance in your future."
"Only if I prove myself. Otherwise, he claims to be leaving everything to his favorite charities."
She gave him a doubtful look. "Seriously?"
"Yes. Will Jansen doesn't give anybody anything unless they earn it, and part of earning it is being unconditionally loyal and following the path he wants you to follow."
She sat down at her kitchen table. "Is that what you're doing, following his path?"
"While trying to make it my own—yes. Unfortunately, making it my own doesn't always make my grandfather happy." He paused as he sat down across from her. "But we got off topic. We were talking about your bad dates."
"I'd rather talk about you. You told me your dad came to Miami from Cuba. And I've now heard a little about your grandfather, but I don't know anything about your mother. How did your parents meet?"
"My mother was twenty years old. She was going to school at Yale, but she and a friend came to Miami for the summer. She wanted to suntan and make some money by the beach, so she got a job waitressing. My father had only been in Miami three months when he met her. He was working as a bus boy at the same restaurant."
Michael paused for a moment, his gaze reflective. "They both told me that they fell in love at first sight. They had a whirlwind romance. I think their relationship also went faster than normal, because they knew she would go back to school soon. By the end of the summer she was pregnant. She dropped out of Yale, much to her parents' dismay and she married my dad."
"And had you," Alicia said.
"We had a good life. Those early years, I just remember as being really happy. She was a free spirit, nothing like her father—my grandfather. She didn't care about money or ambition. She was a dancer and a singer, and she liked to have fun. I think her parents disowned her when she got married. They thought my dad was after her money, but he wasn't. He was in love with her."
"It sounds very romantic."
"I think it was."
"How did she die?"
"She had a difficult time with my birth. I guess there was scarring or something that made it risky for her to have more kids. But she thought she could beat the odds."
Alicia's heart turned over. She knew where this was going. "Oh, Michael."
"I was eight years old when she got pregnant again. She was really happy about it. She kept telling my father that everything would be fine, but it wasn't fine. She died from a late miscarriage," he finally said. "Both her and the baby."
"That's so sad. You and your father must have been devastated."
"It was horrible. My dad got so quiet after she passed. It was like we were living in a tomb. Everything was silent. I thought I would never hear him laugh again. But it turned out I was wrong about that. He met Veronica and life was good again—at least for him."
"What's Veronica like?"
"She's great," he said with a shrug. "She's devoted to my dad. She's a good mother. She treated me well enough. But she didn't like me to talk about my mom. She's not a bad person. And my dad isn't bad, either. They just didn't need me in their lives. I'm sure life was a lot easier when I left. My dad made it sound like going to prep school was all about me, saving me from crime and bad influences, but it was also about him having the freedom to show his love for his new family without any restraint."
She thought about his words for a moment. "Your family history is definitely complicated."
"Like I said, it wasn't that bad."
She had a feeling he was making light of some painful memories. "You don't have to pretend with me, Michael."
"I'm not pretending. I'm also not crying. So that should make you happy."
She made a face at him. "It was a car, Michael, a thirty-plus-year-old car with peeling paint and bad upholstery. I'm not a mean person. I have compassion."
"Just not for old, sad cars."
"Okay, you've got me there."
He settled back in his chair. "So, did anyone in Liliana's family have anything interesting to say while I was away from the table?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact. Isabel told me that Liliana and David were not very friendly with each other. Did you know that?"
He shook his head. "No, I've never heard that."
"She said that David's father was injured in a friendly fire incident while he was in the Navy, but that the Navy covered up the true facts of the incident. He asked Liliana to look into it, which she did, but she came to the conclusion that there was no cover-up. David didn't agree."
"Why have I never heard that before?"
"Isabel probably didn't want to make a point of it since she was caught in the middle between her fiancé and her sister."
"Liliana loved being in the Navy. It wasn't just that the Navy got her through college and into the career that she wanted; she was also a patriot. If David attacked the Navy and/or her integrity, she wouldn't like it," Michael said.
"But she did come back for Isabel and David's wedding, so she must have put negative feelings aside for her sister's sake. Isabel also mentioned that David is really unhappy about the indefinite postponement of their wedding."
"I can see why he would be frustrated about that. He's definitely got a temper. I've seen that over the last couple of months."
"Maybe we should look into David."
Michael raised a brow. "You think he'd try to get rid of Isabel's sister? Why?"
"Perhaps he thought she was going to tell Isabel not to marry him. Liliana wanted to speak to you and not her family, which would support the theory that her problem had something to do with her family."
"I get where you're going, but if Liliana had something to tell Isabel, she would have just told her. She wouldn't have held back."
"Her sister was getting married in two days. It would have been really difficult to crush her sister's dreams at that point."
A frown spread across Michael's face, but she could see that he was considering her idea. "Maybe we should take a closer look at David."
"Isabel said he recently started his own computer software training company." She opened her computer. "What's David's last name again?"
"Kenner."
She typed in his name and hit Search. She got an answer on the first page of results. "Kenner Computing. They offer software training for mid- to large-sized businesses covering the usual office software programs." She looked at Michael. "It sounds pretty boring. But just because David appears to be on the dull side doesn't mean he doesn't have a secret. I wonder whether the police questioned him about his whereabouts the night Liliana went missing."
"I know they talked to all the family members, but whether that was just a few cursory questions, I couldn't tell you."
"We'll have to find out."
He nodded, a long yawn following that motion. He absentmindedly ran his fingers through his hair.